Dear Nigga, Pleasure Is Your Birthright. | VOL. 1 | The Pleasure Chronicles.

what brings you pleasure?

When you think of the word ‘pleasure’, what do you think about? Most times, people associate it with sexual shit. They think of all things naughty. And while I do love role playing with myself as DJ Spinderella from time to time, I do find pleasure in the mundane.

Hedonism, is a philosophical concept that refers to the prioritization of pleasure in one’s life. While yes, there are some hedonists who are narcissistic and self-centered people, ignoring the feelings of others in their lives— there is a form of healthy hedonism. In my eyes, everyone should aspire to prioritize pleasure in some way, especially in this bullshit economy. As I’ve been going through the motions of my own personal journey, I’ve been paying keen attention to the experiences, places, routines, people, TV shows/movies, and activities that bring me immense pleasure. Things that make me feel good about myself and where I’m at right now. Within this last month, I documented everything that put a smile on my face in the back of my brain. And I told myself that I would make an effort to make these pleasurable experiences, items, or places a centerfold in my life.

1. My Apartment

I’ve been in the process of redecorating my apartment. When I first moved in here, I still was a little unsure about myself and my personal aesthetic. If you’ve read prior posts, then you’d know… it’s been a journey. Discovering my personal style is already a marker of true womanhood that I’ve marked off my list, so my home aesthetic was next. Duhhh. I followed the same process I used for finding my personal style with home decor. I went on Pinterest, just saving shit that caught my eye. Then, I analyzed the board I created and took note of the shit that kept showing up. Obviously, it was a bunch of color, patterns, and Black art. I was also drawn to things that would be considered ‘childlike.’ This wasn’t really a surprise to me though, considering the work I’ve done on myself. So what did I do? I dedicated a day towards shopping for my apartment.

I went to Ross, Five Below, and Marshall’s to scout some cool pieces for my crib. And I came back with some really dope shit. A Hello Kitty wall clock (that was on sale for $20), some sofa pillows (one was a black, white, and purple checkered smiley face pillow and the other resembled a dice— neon green in color). I found a dice mat for my kitchen area, an iridescent moon shelf, a Hello Kitty bathroom toiletry set, and then I went on Etsy to search for some posters to hang up and frame. I settled on a Gil-Scott Heron poster and ordered some movie posters of my favorite films (Love Jones, Moonlight, The Joker). I felt so damn good once everything came together. And to top it off, I invested in some incense from a local Black owned business in the area, and stacked up on some candles. I looked at everything like “wow, this is a fucking masterpiece.”

And it was. It’s important that your space is reflective of who you are as a person. Your crib is your sanctuary. It only makes sense to curate it to your liking. For me, seeing everything come together and seeing an aesthetic that is reflective of my personality, gives me a sense of pride when I go to work. It gives me motivation to take care of it and consistently clean it. It gives me drive to accomplish anything else. And that? That shit gives me immense pleasure. Even sexually— considering I am a sensualist. Imagine beating your meat and you’re in love with the way your place looks— orgasms are just gonna be more intense. At least for me. You should try it, too.

2. Uncle Bobbie’s

Uncle Bobbie’s is my favorite place in the world. It’s a black-owned bookstore and coffee shop located in Germantown, created by Marc Lamont Hill. The aim was to provide a space for Black people to let their creativity and thoughts thrive, as we rarely have any bookstores of our own in the hood. Niggas go there to relax, kick back, or check the shelves for their next read. The bookstore has books by all Black authors, which is more important than we really think. Seeing books created by majority of Black people not only instills a sense of pride and dignity, but it also lets those of us who dwell in that neighborhood know that we could also be on those shelves. We are also equally as intelligent, creative, intellectual, talented, and educated. Our voices also matter. It’s deeper than what we think.

The staff there? They also give the store a cozy aura. You can go in there and chat all day with them like it’s your homegirl from high school. Obviously, people may be thinking, “well, that is their job… that is what they’re supposed to do”. But nah, I feel like you can always tell when workers are just being performative with their politeness in conversation vs. genuinely being intrigued by the conversation. The workers provide that warmth to the store that I can’t say I’ve ever experienced at any other bookstore/cafe.

Might I also add the aesthetics? As soon as you walk in, you’ll see lights dangling from the ceiling, enveloped by book pages. The innovation of it all! Ahhh! **chefs kiss**. They even have this one drink, called ‘Brown Skin Girl’ that is an homage to Black women. Might be simple to others and not that serious, but I can only imagine how exciting it must be when a little Black girl goes in there with her mother, hearing other Black people say “Let me get a ‘Brown Skin Girl’”. That is so beautiful and impactful to me. The way they prioritize Black culture and Black art and Black music, as well as community, will forever touch me. The intentionality behind everything they do, does not go unnoticed. At least not by me.

I posted the other day on Instagram that I found love in a bookstore, and plenty of people thought I was hinting at finding a potential bae or getting a phone number. But nah, I really found LOVE in my weekly trips there. I found LOVE in myself by being in a space that feels safe, familiar, comfortable, and powerful. I go in there and write my ass off, daydreaming about one day having my shit on their shelves. It motivates me being around other cool ass Black creatives in one space, and therefore, I’ve found me. That is love. And love brings pleasure. So added to my list of pleasurable things? Uncle Bobbie’s.

3. Working on Creative Projects

Working a 9-5 that has NOTHING to do with what you’re actually interested in is pure hell. I hate it and I am positive that some of you resonate with that sentiment. It eats at me every day that I am putting my energy and focus into some bullshit ass job, when I could really be spending my entire day working on some shit that fuels me and ignites passion in me. Sometimes, I get off work and I am too tired to work on my passion projects— that bothers me too. But there are also some days and some weeks where I lock in and I am completely zoned out from the world as I glide my pen across paper— sometimes going on for hours. I’ll look up and realize “Oh shit, it’s 11PM and I work tomorrow". Those random creative rushes are insane. But being disciplined when it comes to not only passion projects, but just shit that I create for fun— turns me on. It brings me a joy that a 9 to 5 could never bring.

Last week, I creative directed my first shoot. I had been coming up with concepts months prior, and was ecstatic about seeing my vision come to life. The model I had, Gigi, was super sweet. I had been a fan of her since I came across her Instagram. Her curiosity for the world, creative photoshoots, along with her style left me in awe. I told myself that I would get her in this shoot, because she effortlessly reflected the aesthetic, vibe, and energy I was pitching for. Inspired by the fashion and sensuality of Josephine Baker, as well as the swanky fashion that remains dominant in the Black church— I wanted to have a shoot that reflected the sexy of it all. Yeah, our grandmas and aunties be covered up in the church— but it still always gives SEXY. SHARP. SOPHISTICATED. UNFUCKWITTABLE. Then we combine the sensuality of Josephine Baker, a woman whose intelligence transcended those of her generation— despite many thinking otherwise due to her Cabaret status, and we have women who both fully display a range of sexiness. I wanted to challenge traditional ideals of Black femininity in the Black church, as well as respectability politics— but I thought I was way in over my head. When I presented the idea to Gigi and the photographer, Dylan, they thought it was so creative, original, and ingenious. I wanted to incorporate elements of the Black church— lace, pearls, white, church fans… in order to make a statement.

At the shoot, it was a collaborative process. Dylan adding in his vision, and Gigi doing the same. That collective merge of creative energy put me in such a state of bliss. I felt like I was in my element and I was THRIVING being there.

“Can you move the light a little to the left?” “What about adding in this color?” “What if we placed a word here?”

There was just so much encouragement and it was so relaxing to finally be in a space where my assertiveness and attention to detail wasn’t looked at as me being “mean” or a “bitch”, because ultimately I want what’s best for everyone involved. I want everything I touch to be great. Not lazily executed. I appreciated that Dylan and Gigi didn’t see that as a threat and encouraged my thoughts, critique, and feedback.

Not only that, we also just meshed very well during that one occasion. We were all just yapping away about recent music releases, our birth charts, capitalism, individualism, the Philly creative scene, and adulthood. Interacting with them felt like heaven on Earth.

“More of this”, I thought. “More collaborative creative projects. More of making your creativity a PRIORITY. No excuses. Look how happy this just made you”.

4. FAMILY

I’ve been pretty open about my tainted relationship with my mother. But recently, we’ve been getting along so well. As a grown woman, I can reflect on prior me and recognize that I never really got to know my mother as a person— but rather just as my mother. This has been something that has become important to me. I’ve been asking my mom what shows she liked as a child, what celebrities she looked up to, her favorite fashion brands as a teenager, etc. A lot of times, my mother would frequently discuss her trauma, but it became clear to me that she never discussed herself outside of that. Therefore, I’ve been opening up a space where she can be excited telling me about her new favorite hobbies, interests, and TV shows. Of course, this lady doesn’t realize what I’m doing, but I want her to start seeing herself in her entirety outside of her title as a Mother. Now, the conversations have naturally shifted to her newfound adventures and personal realizations. It warms my heart, my spirit, and my soul to see her transformation.

Being around my family in general, makes me feel less anxious— even in spite of the harsh realities of adulthood. When I think about it, me and my family are not compatible not one bit. I remember downloading the app, Dimensional, where you can measure compatibility with loved ones through multiple personality tests that you both take. Me and my sister discovered that we are five percent compatible. We joked about that shit for days because this was something I ALWAYS knew. We are the complete opposites. Yet I choose to love my family in spite of our differences, because you do not choose biological family. In fact, we were also laughing over the fact that we would not be friends if we were not related. However, there are experiences that me and my family share together that I’ve never experienced with anyone else. There have been moments where my siblings have seen me at my absolute worst. They’ve seen the ugly sides of me that I hide from the rest of the world— even my friends. Yet there is true intimacy and connection in that, and so that is what drives our love for each other. That is a love that could never be duplicated even in spite of our large differences.

Now, I just pick and choose my battles with them. I know not to bring up certain topics around them and I understand the environment I am in. So, I move accordingly. In doing this, I’ve noticed a significant change in the way I interact with them. Before, I would hate the fact that I felt like an imposter whenever I visited because I rarely resonated with them. But then I realized… it’s not always about you. CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES and LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY. I then knew peace and I found solace in doing so. I connect more. I feel more. I let go more. That perspective has changed our relationship with one another. I feel joy whenever I’m with my family. That brings me pleasure. Family, check.

5. Parliament Funkadelic

Man, oh man. Parliament Funkadelic are just a band that I have so much love for. Especially now. I listened to them as a kid— moreso for the sonics of it all. But as an adult? They’ve gotten me through so much. I’ve been open about how hard it is to navigate adulthood in this economy, especially when you live by yourself. It’s a LOT. But in revisiting their discography, I couldn’t help but think about how fucking wacky, unconventional, and outlandish they were for their time. They faced a lot of backlash for their funky outfits, hairstyles, and concert production. But they were creating their own lane. For some time, a lot of Black artists were touching on the same tired subject matter— poverty, race, struggle, and occasionally love. Then in comes the eclectic Parliament Funkadelic and George Clinton— spitting words of affirmation over a groovy soundscape, taking audiences through a fantastical realm that was unheard of. Their albums resembled cinematic experiences, incorporating different characters and settings like Dr. Funkenstein and Chocolate City. They even had staple concert props, such as the P-Funk Mothership— serving as a cosmic vehicle that delivered funk music. George Clinton was intentional and adamant about promoting the power of imagination and inventiveness, forcing Black people to see themselves outside of their trauma. There was an entire portal he tapped into, producing some of his greatest creations. He wanted Black people to share that same experience. There was no other way to do that than through music. He placed Black people in spaces they never thought they could be, like the White House and space, for example. He placed us in positions of power and leadership. The band affirmed Black people through their witty humor, imagery, and outer space aesthetics. It was revolutionary, serving as the breeding ground for Afro-futurism. Parliament reminded Black people that we are exceptional, phenomenal, clever, fashionable, and personable. Parliament promoted exploration, experimentation, unconventionality, introspection, escapism, and fantasy during a time where the world (and ourselves) constantly confined us to trauma.

I put their albums on and go into a completely different creative vein. I picture myself on a spaceship, calling all the shots. I picture myself in a position of power where I am bossing mediocre white women around. I picture myself in the future, doing exactly what I love. They reaffirm me through the music, reminding me that there is absolutely nothing that Kamory cannot do. I can do it all. The possibilities are endless. I just have to place my mind there and possess a confidence where I KNOW I will get there, irregardless of the shit this world tries to throw at me as a Black woman. My visions for my future are not unreachable. The challenges of capitalism, misogynoir, ableism, white supremacy, and patriarchy may exist, but they most definitely do not define my potential.

In our journeys of self-discovery, Parliament Funkadelic emphasizes that joy is my birthright as a Black person. Fun is my birthright as a Black person. Creative expression is my birthright as a Black person. Pleasure is my birthright as a Black person. These elements are NOT privileges, but inherently apart of all of us as a people. And I will see to it that I reclaim this birthright in honor of my ancestors. I am committed to harnessing the power of my Black ass mind and embracing each day with vigor and joy— finding pleasure in the little things. I can’t and I won’t let this world win.